View more from the

Lynne Tabor, an IT manager at manufacturing giant MMI, has a great team. Everyone works hard and gets along. Everyone, that is, except Max Dyer. Max is a talented programmer, but he’s terrible in the interpersonal skills department. So terrible, in fact, that three years ago Lynne reworked his job after employees complained that he was unengaged and even belligerent.

Since then, he’s been a solid worker, putting in extra hours and meriting good performance evaluations. But recently, Max’s coworkers have noticed a change for the worse in him. True, everyone at MMI is on edge after a round of layoffs, but Max’s behavior seems like more than a case of the jitters. To make matters worse, reports of a workplace shooting in Seattle are all over the news. Paige overhears Max shouting at someone on the phone. George finds Max pinning up a certificate from a shooting range in his cubicle, and Nicole, who worries they will all end up as statistics of office violence, wants to know how Lynne plans to ensure their safety.

When Lynne tries to talk to Max, it’s clear he thinks his coworkers are out to get him. And the truth is, they believe he fits the profile of a man on the edge. But what can Lynne do about an employee who has never made so much as a veiled threat to anyone?

Commentators James Alan Fox, a professor of criminal justice at Northeastern University; Steve Kaufer, a cofounder of the Workplace Violence Research Institute; Christine Pearson, a management professor at Thunderbird; Christine Porath, a professor of management and organizational behavior at the University of Southern California’s Marshall School of Business; and Ronald Schouten, the director of the Law and Psychiatry Service at Massachusetts General Hospital, offer advice in this fictional case study.

“Guess who I ran into at CVS last night?” Nicole Ianucci paused for effect, then leaned in toward her coworkers. “Max was there, in line at the prescription counter. I couldn’t see what he was picking up, but you know what I think? I think he’s having some sort of a breakdown. That would explain why he’s been acting so weird lately.”

“Oh, come on, Nicole,” Derek scoffed. “The poor guy probably has a cold, and you’ve got him on antipsychotics. This is how rumors get started.”

“I know everyone around here thinks I’m a drama queen,” she whispered, “but honestly, doesn’t he give you the creeps? I mean, I used to think he was just a harmless oddball, but haven’t you noticed he’s getting worse—like, ever since last Tuesday?”

No one had to be reminded of the significance of last Tuesday. That was the day a disgruntled office worker in Seattle had walked into his workplace, a .38-caliber pistol in each hand, and shot several coworkers before turning one of the guns on himself. Nicole continued, “These things always set off copycats. And they go interview the guy’s neighbors, and it’s always the same: ‘He kept to himself,’ or ‘He was kind of a misfit.’ Does that sound like anyone we know?”

As if on cue, Max Dyer walked by, ducking his head and concealing as best he could a paper plate bending under the weight of three bagels. It was easy to imagine this tall, awkward man as the kid nobody wanted to play with back in grade school. His beard needed trimming, his shirt was untucked, there were coffee stains on his pants, even the lenses of his glasses were speckled with dirt. When he was out of earshot, Nicole arched her brow and continued, “The man will not even make eye contact. I’m telling you, he’s a freak.”

“And what’s with the stockpiling of food?” Paige chimed in. “He’s always lurking around the kitchen, just waiting to scavenge any leftovers someone drops off after a meeting. I mean, really, have some self-respect.”

Derek shrugged. “Okay, he is a little strange. I’ll give you that. But guys, lighten up. So he’s got a big appetite, and he’s cheap—big deal. We’ve all got quirks. The fact is, he’s a great programmer. Everybody’s on edge because of all the layoff talk around here. Cut him some slack, would you?”

As Lynne Tabor walked toward the watercooler, she noticed three of her top programmers engrossed in conversation. Normally, she’d have thought nothing of it, but something about their expressions gave her pause. Nicole had that “sky is falling” look on her face, and Paige appeared to be annoyed. Derek seemed calm enough, but then, he was possibly the most laid-back man on the planet. “Please don’t let Nicole be stirring up layoff rumors again,” Lynne thought. “Morale’s been low enough since the last round.” Smiling brightly, she approached the group. “Hi, guys. What’s up?”

“Doesn’t he give you the creeps? I mean, I used to think he was just a harmless oddball, but haven’t you noticed he’s getting worse?”

They exchanged pleasantries, talked about the school play Nicole’s daughter was in, and vented their horror at the Seattle shooting, which was all over the news. The conversation wound down with a status report on Derek’s current project. In short, everything seemed fine, but Lynne had a nagging feeling that she was missing something.

Odd Man Out

The recession had hit manufacturing giant MMI hard, Lynne reflected as she walked back to her office, and people were understandably jittery. Originally called Mailing Machines International, the company’s name had been shortened 30 years ago when it expanded into other electronic office equipment. MMI had been good to Lynne: She’d started as an intern and was hired as a full-time programmer when she graduated from college. A few years ago, she was promoted into management. After 15 years at MMI, Lynne cared a great deal about the company, and particularly about her staff. But if MMI missed its quarterly targets again, there might very well be a second round of layoffs.

Lynne’s unit had already lost two people, both of whom qualified for the early retirement package. But that meant the others had to pick up extra work, and long hours had become the norm. Luckily for her, Lynne had great people on her team—they worked hard, they helped each other out, and everyone seemed to get along. Everyone except Max, that is.

Max Dyer had a strong work ethic; she couldn’t fault him there. He was always in the office before she got in at 7:00, and he was still there when she left most evenings. She was concerned about burnout with that sort of schedule, but the one time she brought it up with him, he had answered in his typical monosyllabic style. When she pressed him, he said he was fine and then asked if that was all she needed and if he could get back to work. Max was not one for idle chat.

In fact, he was pretty terrible in the “interpersonal skills” department—so bad that three years ago his position had to be reworked. According to his original job description, he was supposed to work with the engineers who designed MMI’s mailing machines—he created software that mapped out the plans for assembling the parts. The plans were accessed at workstations by the workers on the production floor who built the equipment. The job itself was complex—no question—and Max had to field questions and revision requests from both the engineers and the production workers. But soon enough, both groups began asking Lynne to assign someone other than Max to their projects. They couldn’t fault the quality of his work, exactly, but neither could they warm up to him as a collaborator. According to the engineers, in meetings at which he was supposed to be eliciting their requirements, he sat silent and let them do all the talking. It wasn’t clear he was even listening, they complained, because his few comments were often non sequiturs. And when he did make a valuable contribution, it took some doing to find the thread between what he was saying and the topic at hand. The production workers were just as unhappy: They thought he talked down to them. When they pointed out problems with the plans—such as the schematic appearing on a different screen than the assembly instructions—he turned defensive, even belligerent.

Lynne remembered well the awkward conversation she’d had with Max at the time. His fidgeting and obvious unease in response to a series of questions about people and projects satisfied her that these weren’t specific personality clashes; Max was socially inept across the board. So Lynne appeased the engineers and production workers by assigning Paige to their projects and managed to retain Max’s programming expertise by rewriting his job description to call for less interaction with users. It seemed like the perfect solution at the time, especially considering that the whole IT industry was engaged in a war for talent. Paige was a winner, too, since her expanded role merited a raise.

Lynne was proud of the way she had handled that problem, despite some initial reservations she’d had about Max’s compensation. Ideally, she would have reduced his salary to reflect the scaled-back nature of his job. But that, she knew, would have been adding insult to injury, and Max seemed more than a little humiliated about what others would perceive as a demotion. In the end, he had deserved the pay, anyway. He drove himself hard, increased his output, and got good performance reviews.

Lynne did worry that he had become even more antisocial, perhaps because his job no longer forced him to interact with people on a regular basis. Max never went to lunch with the other people on his team, and it was rare to hear him discuss weekend plans or current events with anyone. But she had more pressing concerns than one wallflower programmer. The most important thing was to keep the whole team focused and motivated.

Growing Unease

“You don’t like pickles, do you?” Paige asked as she reached across to Nicole’s lunch tray.

“What’s the ‘whole Max thing’?” asked Sam, another programmer in their group. “Wait, don’t tell me: He’s wearing those sandals you hate so much, is that it?”

“She’s convinced he’s going to snap and take us all out with him. Isn’t that right, Nic?”

“It’s easy to laugh, Derek, and I hate to say it, but what if she’s on to something?” asked George, one of the engineers. “Get this. I stopped by Max’s cubicle the other day to drop off some printouts, and what do I find him doing? Pinning up a certificate from some shooting range. I guess he’s been getting in some practice.”

Paige’s eyes widened. “Oh, my God!”

Sam hastened to calm her. “Hey, come on. I’ve been known to spend some time at the range. If you’re a hunter…” But a note of uncertainty crept into his voice.

Paige jumped back in. “Did any of you hear him lose it on the phone last week? I don’t know who he was talking to, but he totally flipped out. I swear, I thought he was going to hurl something across the room. Then he slammed down the receiver and just stormed out. It was scary.”

“Hey, at least now we know that he does leave the building sometimes,” Derek said, trying to lighten the mood. But it didn’t work. Sam was starting to look as jumpy as the rest of them.

“Yeah,” he said slowly. “Why is he always in the office? It’s like he lives here now. Maybe that explains the stash of food at his desk.”

“You know, I’ve stopped coming in most weekends,” Paige admitted sheepishly. “I know we’ve got a ton of work to do before the next rollout, George—and I’ll get it done, I will—but I just can’t stand the thought of being here all alone with Max. It skeeves me out. He’s got that ‘bodies stashed in the basement’ sort of look to him, doesn’t he?”

Nicole scanned the table. “I’m not so crazy after all, am I? I’m telling you, Max is on the edge. And I don’t want to end up a statistic.”

An Unsettling Meeting

Lynne took a deep breath before launching into the explanation of why she had called Max into her office. “One of your coworkers has expressed some concern about you, Max. Apparently there was an incident last Thursday with a phone call?”

Max’s head jerked back, almost as if he had taken a physical blow, and when he met her eye she was surprised at the intensity of his stare. She swallowed. “It sounds like you were extremely angry.”

It quickly became clear that Max believed the people around him were conspiring to make him look bad, if not to undermine his work outright. It made sense, he pointed out to Lynne. Layoffs were looming, and his output was higher than theirs. “The rats,” he said, “are beginning to panic.”

For the next several minutes, Lynne tried to get to the root of his suspicion and assure him that no one wanted the team’s performance to be compromised. But as she talked, she saw him regarding her carefully. At some point it occurred to her that he was trying to size her up. Was she on his side—or theirs?

As she closed the door behind him, she drew her first deep breath since the conversation had started. “My God,” she thought, “that’s real paranoia.”

“And yet,” she admitted to herself, “Max is absolutely right: They are out to get him.”

Time for Action?

Lynne wasn’t sure what to make of it, she explained to Gene Kozlowski, the vice president of human resources. Layoff anxiety she was ready for. And feelings of burnout? Yeah, those were expected, too. But fear for one’s personal safety? She hadn’t seen that one coming.

Gene took a swig of coffee. “Okay, let’s have it. What’s going on with Max? Last I heard, he was doing well ever since we took him off the process plans.”

Lynne started by recapping the conversation she had had with Nicole the day before. A visibly upset Nicole had walked into her office and claimed that she was scared that Max might become violent. She had also said that Paige and Sam, as well as George in engineering, shared her concerns, and they wanted to know what Lynne was prepared to do to ensure their safety. Lynne had assured her that safety was, of course, her primary concern and then had asked Nicole to explain why she felt threatened. Nicole had listed a host of reasons, and Lynne had thanked her for her honesty and had promised to think seriously about what the next steps should be.

“Isn’t part of being a professional learning how to deal with all sorts of people, even those who make you uncomfortable?”

The problem was, none of Nicole’s reasons held up very well under scrutiny. Even Nicole had admitted that Max had never made so much as a veiled threat to anyone in the office. Yes, he owned a gun, but so did lots of other MMI employees. He was definitely a loner, but was that really an indicator of future violent behavior? The fact that he had bought some type of prescription drug was hardly worth considering—except that it reminded Lynne that she needed to pick up her allergy pills on the way home. And that “explosive” phone call, as Nicole put it? Well, one outburst wasn’t grounds for dismissal, which seemed to be what Nicole was looking for. Moreover, Lynne couldn’t ignore the fact that Nicole had a well-known flair for the dramatic—she joked about it herself at times. Was this another case of her blowing things out of proportion?

On the other hand, the fact that Paige—and maybe others—had stopped working late or on weekends to avoid being alone with Max was a definite cause for concern. And Nicole was right when she pointed out that people here used the same words to describe Max that employees at that Seattle company had used to describe their gunman coworker. And Max had been looking more disheveled lately.

Lynne explained to Gene that after her meeting with Nicole, she had talked with Max about his coworkers’ concerns. But instead of feeling reassured by their conversation, she had ended up feeling more anxious.

Her thoughts took another turn. “Isn’t part of being a professional learning how to deal with all sorts of people, even those who make you uncomfortable?” she asked Gene. “It’s not as if I’m asking Nicole and the others to like Max. I’ve got to think of the big picture here. What would happen if we did decide to get rid of him and he hired an attorney? Do we want to go down that road? But if we don’t take action and something tragic happens—I just couldn’t live with myself. I don’t want to be the next workplace violence story on the news.”

Lynne trailed off and shrugged. “So that’s where things stand. I’m at a loss, Gene. I just don’t see an easy fix—or even a hard fix,” she smiled wanly. “I don’t want anyone to feel like they’re at risk, but I don’t see how we can take action against a guy who hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Is Max a threat?

James Alan Fox is the Lipman Family Professor of Criminal Justice at Northeastern University in Boston.

In the wake of any episode of workplace vengeance, like the Seattle shooting described in this case study, employees in companies near and far commonly identify with the victims. More than just sympathizing, they may fear that similar rampages could occur within their own organizations.

The media reports that everyone at MMI is hearing are probably sprinkled with suggestions of an epidemic of workplace violence and most likely include some alarming statistics. Homicide is the leading cause of workplace fatalities for women, and second for men; more than 1,000 workers die each year in homicides on the job. The message is painfully clear: You had better watch out, because the next mass murderer may be working in your office! In this kind of hypersensitive climate, is it any wonder that Max Dyer is so frightening to his colleagues?

Treating Max like a ticking time bomb can actually do much more harm than good.

The scary statistics cited in newspapers and magazines are quite misleading, however. The vast majority of workplace homicides and assaults are the result of robberies at retail stores or of taxi drivers. Of the millions of Americans in the labor force, a few dozen die each year at the hands of disgruntled colleagues. There is a risk, to be sure, but a miniscule one.

Of course, there are reasonable steps we can take to make that risk even smaller—whether or not a layoff is coming, whether or not there is someone like Max around to stir up emotions and rumors. But it is important not to make the situation worse out of fear and panic.

Many supervisors try to minimize the risk of workplace violence by looking for warning signs, comparing employees with profiles found in books, pamphlets, and on the Internet. The typical workplace avenger is a reclusive, middle-aged white male who feels that his job and financial well-being are in jeopardy. Facing yet another disappointment or failure at work, he senses that his career is slipping away. He also believes that he is not to blame. Rather, it’s the supervisor who gives him poor assignments or doesn’t appreciate his hard work; it’s his coworkers who get all the credit when profits go up; it’s the human resources personnel who are out to get him.

Max’s colleagues have surely spent too much time studying this profile. Undoubtedly, Max does exhibit certain disturbing characteristics. As a loner, he lacks the support systems that most of us depend on to help us cope with adversity. His long hours at the office suggest that he devotes too much of himself to his job and not enough to hobbies and other outside activities. Problems tend to arise when work is the only meaningful part of someone’s life. Fortunately, Max has not indicated in any overt way that he is dangerous. His certificate of marksmanship may say more about what gives him a sense of pride than about any desire to harm his coworkers. Despite our wish to find safety in profiling, such prediction strategies are doomed to fail. Tens of thousands of disgruntled Americans in workplaces large and small are frustrated, never smile, and live alone. Yet very few will ever translate their inner feelings of anger into outward expressions of violence.

Treating Max like a ticking time bomb can actually do much more harm than good. If he senses that he is being targeted in a negative way, it could reinforce any feelings of persecution that he may already harbor. Singling him out could precipitate the violent outburst that it is designed to prevent.

The best strategy is to reach out to him, affirm his worth as an employee, try to involve him in group lunches and social events, and help him find balance in his life. These are the right things to do with all employees, not just the ones who scare us.

Ultimately, the best approach for reducing the risk of workplace violence is not to focus on the Max Dyers of the world—the oddballs, geeks, and misfits—but to focus on humanizing the entire workplace. Civility, respect, decency, and worker satisfaction must become a critical part of the bottom line.

Steve Kaufer is the cofounder of the Workplace Violence Research Institute in Palm Springs, California, and the coauthor of The Complete Workplace Violence Prevention Manual, which was published by the institute in 1997 and is updated quarterly.

After someone becomes violent in the workplace, people often come forward and say, “He was a nice guy, but…,” and then they list all these disturbing things about him that they had never reported to anyone. That’s why I think Max’s coworkers have taken a positive step by airing their concerns to management.

That said, they may be reading too much into the situation. They’re trying to apply a profile to Max, and profiles don’t work. They are thinking that if he does certain things—if he fits the profile—they should be concerned. But everybody has what you could call a baseline behavior. Max’s baseline is being a little creepy and looking unkempt and wearing some of his lunch. That’s not weird behavior for Max because he’s always been that way. In most cases, the trouble starts only if the baseline behavior changes. Max’s changes only a little in this case: He has one angry outburst, and he’s started to spend more time at work—but perhaps he doesn’t have a lot of outside interests or his workload is heavy. If it changes more dramatically—if his hair’s going in 18 different directions and he looks like he slept in his car—then I would be concerned. For instance, I saw a situation in which a government employee moved out of his apartment and made no attempt to find another place to live. He used facilities at a campsite to clean himself up and slept in his car. His behavior said that he was not making any attempt to relocate, that perhaps he had other plans that would obviate the need for a long-term living solution.

Getting back to Max, Lynne Tabor has stumbled in the past by accommodating him rather than dealing with his unwanted behavior. She sent the message that it’s okay for Max to be grumpy and cranky; the rest of the staff will work around him. She should counsel Max on his behavior. Chances are she’ll find an underlying issue: a problem at home, an illness, the fact that he doesn’t believe he’s been treated fairly at work. If she can get to the heart of the matter, she’ll be more likely to help him become a better colleague. But if she’s walking on eggshells around him, afraid to take disciplinary action because she’s scared he’s going to do something, that’s a huge problem.

Litigation is the outcome of almost every serious incident of workplace violence. In terms of liability, MMI is obligated to investigate now that it knows that employees are concerned about Max. If it doesn’t, and Max does become violent, the plaintiff will use that information against MMI. On the other hand, the company might face a wrongful termination suit if it fires Max without building a proper case. Too often, especially when dealing with somebody who’s a little weird, companies haven’t built a strong case because nobody ever wanted to deal with the person. So when the last-straw incident occurs, there’s nothing in the employee’s personnel file. At that point, management either has to start from scratch or terminate the employee and hope the company doesn’t get sued.

But in a case like this, particularly when the employee is fairly good—Max is performing his job, he’s just strange—I think the company has to adopt more of a benevolent perspective than a punitive one. Lynne and Gene Kozlowski need to find out what’s driving Max’s behavior. They’re never going to change his weirdness, but other issues have surfaced that seem to be getting worse: paranoia, anger, changes in his already odd appearance. Something is behind that, and they need to find out what. They should consider what MMI can do so that his behavior does not escalate. A lot of organizations have employee assistance programs (EAPs), for example, and they’re great resources in situations like this. So, unless there has been a direct threat or a serious violation of company policy—like an assault or something else totally inexcusable—the best approach is the benevolent one. They should try to figure out what’s going on with this guy and how to help him become a productive and collegial employee.

They’re trying to apply a profile to Max, and profiles don’t work.

Christine Pearson is an associate professor of management at Thunderbird, the American Graduate School of International Management, in Glendale, Arizona.

Christine Porath is an assistant professor of management and organizational behavior at the University of Southern California’s Marshall School of Business in Los Angeles.

As a manager, Lynne has fallen short: She’s harboring an uncivil employee, colluding with office gossip, and running scared.

Max’s behavior is costing MMI big bucks, in ways the company probably doesn’t realize. According to our research on incivility in the workplace, about one-quarter of those who have to interact with Max will cut back their hours—as Paige has done—and another quarter will intentionally reduce their effort. Additionally, roughly one-third of Max’s coworkers will spread rumors and withhold information, another third will avoid him, and many will engage in organizational deviance, behavior that violates the norms of the workplace and is harmful to the organization, its members, or both. Some people will sabotage their bosses out of anger for not correcting the situation, and one in eight will actually change jobs—but they’ll never tell you why.

Given those numbers, Lynne can’t ignore the situation. But before she can deal with Max, she needs to take a look in the mirror. As a manager, Lynne has fallen short: She’s harboring an uncivil employee, colluding with office gossip, and running scared. But encountering a workplace avenger is less likely than being struck dead by lightning. So while Lynne needs to address the fear that’s brewing at MMI, her most pressing problem is that employee relations have run amok because she didn’t deal with Max years ago. By giving him a new job description and great performance evaluations, she has reinforced his antisocial tendencies and fostered costly norms of incivility. Now she’s afraid to act because Max might hire an attorney and because he just might live up to the rumors.

At this point, Lynne should involve others at MMI in creating a written statement about employee interactions. It can be as simple as “At MMI, employees treat one another with respect,” and it can be folded into an existing mission or values statement. (The breadth of incivility in Lynne’s department suggests that no such statement exists; if it does, Lynne is in trouble for not holding her subordinates accountable.) Even if MMI is not willing to set a companywide norm, Lynne should do so in her division. Such a statement becomes a benchmark against which all uncivil behavior can be monitored and corrected before it damages organizational culture, employees, and customers.

Lynne should discuss three issues with Gene: creating the company policy, obtaining relevant details in Max’s employment record that she may not be aware of, and enrolling Max in training programs to correct his interpersonal deficiencies. Lynne should then talk with the head of MMI’s security to make employees’ safety concerns known. She should also request a confidential criminal background check on Max as a precaution.

To put a stop to the incivility in her own area, she must meet with her direct reports to stress the importance of the new policy and the consequences for those who violate it, regardless of their special competencies. She should institute 360-degree feedback to track how employees treat one another. Lynne should also tell Nicole, in private, that her behavior violates the new policy and that she will be held accountable.

Lynne must also meet again with Max. Since their last conversation failed to uncover the reason for his unprofessional phone encounter—the only misbehavior that she could have disciplined legitimately—she should revisit that topic. Then she must explain that he needs coaching and training from HR, and together they can establish a timetable. This discussion should be framed as an effort to help Max so that his technical abilities will not be held back by his interpersonal incompetence. Lynne must explain that the standards for coworker respect that apply to all employees also apply to him. She should document this meeting and add it to Max’s personnel file as a contract and as evidence of a corporate attempt to correct the problem, should Max ever hire an attorney. If, after these steps, Max’s uncivil behavior continues or escalates, he should be fired.

Ronald Schouten, a psychiatrist and attorney, is the director of the Law and Psychiatry Service at Massachusetts General Hospital in Boston and president of KeyPeople Resources, a consulting firm in Boston specializing in corporate health, disaster management, and behavioral health services.

Workplace homicides are rare, but when they occur, their devastating effects extend beyond the loss of individual life. Family members and coworkers are also victims, and the organization itself can experience serious business repercussions from lost productivity and a damaged public image. As if that weren’t enough, the situation is a legal minefield.

It is not surprising that Max’s behavior makes his coworkers nervous, especially given the layoffs and the workplace shooting in Seattle. Such events raise anxiety and often lead to a lot of talk about profiles. But if workplaces were to exclude all employees with commonly cited risk factors (white men, 30 to 50 years old, like to work alone, have trouble getting along with others, can’t accept criticism), they’d be practically empty.

Is Max a threat? His deteriorating behavior, difficulty accepting criticism, angry outbursts, and accusations that others are out to harm him are all risk factors, as is his involvement with guns—but only because it proves he has access to weapons. The fact that Max has not threatened anyone is worth noting, but as research from the Secret Service has shown, it’s important to focus not on whether someone makes a threat but on whether he or she poses a threat.

That puts Lynne in a difficult, but not uncommon, situation. What if Max has a documented mental health condition? She might be tempted to delay taking action for fear of a suit under the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) or a state equivalent. The ADA makes it unlawful for employers to discriminate against individuals on the basis of a current or past physical or mental disability. It also prohibits discrimination against those perceived to have a disability, even if they do not. But appropriate workplace interventions and discipline can be applied to disabled individuals—they are subject to the same workplace rules as nondisabled employees. Max is unlikely to have an ADA claim if Lynne handles him the way she would any other employee who disrupted the workplace. Additionally, she might fear a wrongful termination or defamation lawsuit if Max is let go or is escorted out of the workplace and portrayed as dangerous.

But if Lynne does nothing, and Max acts out Nicole’s worst fears, MMI could face negligent hire or negligent retention lawsuits. There may also be federal and state Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA) citations for failure to maintain a safe workplace. In fact, the stress of the situation may lead employees to seek workers’ compensation.

Even so, many managers are reluctant to intervene, either because they don’t want to intrude into an employee’s personal life or because they fear that their action will push the person over the edge. But most struggling employees respond positively to good-faith inquiries about their well-being. And the concern that your action will topple someone over the edge is actually the strongest argument for doing something.

My advice to Lynne is to ask Max again if he’s all right, comment on his apparent stress level, and engage him as a fellow human being. The next steps depend on his response. Under the best circumstances, he will acknowledge that he does not get along with people. Under the worst circumstances, he will become hostile and threatening. Most interactions like this lie somewhere between these extremes.

If Lynne does nothing, and Max acts out Nicole’s worst fears, MMI could face negligent hire or negligent retention lawsuits.

Policy and procedures for cases like Max’s are important: Workplaces should have teams—with representatives from management, HR, legal, mental health, security, and public relations—to handle such crises. More important still is the ability to strike a balance between fear and denial while addressing everyone’s interests in an objective, concerned manner.

A version of this article appeared in the July 2003 issue of Harvard Business Review.

Partner Center

The email and password entered aren’t matching to our records. Please try again, or reset your password. If you have a username from our previous site, start by using that. Please See our FAQ for more.

If you are signing in for the first time on the new HBR.org but have an existing account, please enter your existing user name and password to migrate your account.Please see Frequently Asked Questions for more information.